The Bells
by kira1725
Summary: HEAR the sledges with the bells - Silver bells! At the melancholy meaning of their tone! Peacetime and Wartime all in one very dark fic based on the The Bells by Edgar Allen Poe.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or The Bells by Edgar Allen Poe._

_The Bells_

I

_HEAR the sledges with the bells -__  
Silver bells!_

They knew which part of the country they were in… generally. From the make-shift home base, they were piled in vans with blacked out windows and driven out so far that some where the desert ended up in a field; a field of grass and flowers and dirt and trees that seemed to spread for miles that got hot as the sun went through the day and felt soft between your toes.

The town held no more than five thousand and had a militia smaller in numbers than the petals of ten sunflowers, but it was a home to the only farmable lands for miles and miles around. The town held few shops, many markets, and more farms than anything else. The people were illiterate, uneducated, and spoke a distinct dialect of the native tongue they barely knew.

They didn't need a translator to know that the natives were scarred of them, UN soldiers brought in to help protect the town from a war that seemed all too distant. The soldiers moved in and after a while of caution, many of them integrated nicely into the community during the peaceful first two weeks. The town accepted them soon afterwards.

_What a world of merriment their melody foretells!_

There were ten units of eleven soldiers and a unit leader. The units worked together in harmony, except Unit 2. This unit was thrown together at the last minute and was more diverse than a world culture fair. Unit 2 also had no current leader, as the last one went AWOL only a few days before departure from the home base.

_How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,_

Arthur, in his dull green uniform and dull black shoes, did not appreciate the disarray of his unit. His old unit back in the last war, five years ago, was a well-oiled train and this unit was worse than a pack-mule. He took a sweet sucker from his pocket and started to slowly chew on it, the strain on his teeth giving him a pleasurable pain as they worked against the honey flavored candies.

_In the icy air of night!__  
_ The American blonde boy had discovered Arthur's stash of candy and Arthur had to give him two as a way to shut him up. The kid, Alfred, was loud and all smiles; young, too, a year older than when Arthur had first gone to war. Alfred was loud and boisterous and could entertain kids for hours, all while speaking a language the children did not understand.

The stash of candy was all honey flavored. When asked why the honey flavored ones, Arthur thought a second before answering. The American seemed to enjoy Arthur's company, something the Englishman could not even fathom a reason _why_ other than Alfred secretly liked cynical answers to everything he ever said. So, Arthur answered truthfully, if there was tea, then honey could be a substitute for sugar. Alfred outright laughed at him and said that was so 'British' of him and asked where they would get tea in war time.

_While the stars that oversprinkle_

Only _real_ bad thing about Alfred was how much he talked to and about his brother. Arthur never got the full story, but divorced parents led to his twin brother being Canadian. Matthew was in Unit 2 as their sniper and the best in the command, though he didn't look it. He was a timed, shy child that had grown up in a every major city in Canada before going on his search to find Alfred. They found each other on the internet at twelve and each other's closest friend since.

Matthew did not seek out children, but they came to him. It was unwanted attention, but Arthur saw the smile before he started to tell another tale. Alfred and Matthew were opposites in Arthur's opinion, but not as so as the other two sets of brothers in their unit.

_All the heavens, seem to twinkle_

The two Italians were so unalike they were not on the same spectrum as the other. The eldest, Lovino, was of the distasteful family, complaining and cursing the entire town. A scowl on his face, permanent since the day he was born, made the townsfolk weary of him. It was obvious he was the fighter of the brothers, always in (and usually winning) an argument.

Arthur went down one day to the food tent to see the man, munching on tomatoes. He didn't say anything until he saw Lovino eating ketchup packets a few days later. The man craved tomatoes.

_With a crystalline delight;_

His younger brother, Feliciano, was not a soldier, but a peace-keeping medic. Arthur kept up the name 'Hippie' for the Italian in his mind. Feliciano was all cheer and hope and had no business being near the ugliness and blood ruining of war. He kept himself busy, acting as a doctor and chatting up a few of the woman around town.

Arthur had to fetch water with him from the wall in the center of town one late night. The Englishman asked why the younger man was so against war. The tan skinned boy then told him that he had a friend in the military who didn't make it and he had waited many years before he knew the truth, so now he helps cure soldiers so they don't have loved ones waiting for them, too. By the lonely distant eyes, Arthur had a feeling the 'friend' was more of a lover.

_Keeping time, time, time,_

The other two brothers were unalike in a different way. The eldest, Gilbert, was of cold, hard German blood that was made for war. He had seen a couple of fights in his days and had done really well. There was also the fact that he loved war and beer. Arthur never saw anybody that could outdrink his brother until Gilbert came along. The loud mouth German was also suborn, refusing help at all times. But, if no one was looking, the soft brotherly side of the man would appear.

The German had snuck his pet bird, a small baby chick, with him to war. Gilbird went to all his wards with him, like a good luck charm. More than once had he caught Gilbert sneaking food or softly petting his little bird.

_In a sort of Runic rhyme,_

Gilbert's younger brother was a big, muscular German named Ludwig who was stricter than a nun at a Catholic School. He was young, fresh out of military school and the very definition of the perfect soldier. There was a controlled demeanor about him and he wore it proudly, the perfect leader if ever any trouble was to come to them.

For an odd reason, the young Italian had taken a special liking to the German. It was odd, as nobody could ever see them as friends for as different as they both were, but it worked. They would talk and maybe, Arthur though, Ludwig may be able to get the stick out of his ass.

_To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells_

Those two also found a friend ship in the Japanese boy. Kiku had lived in his house for a very long time, never coming out. As a hermit, he bought everything he ever needed on line including groceries. The internet was his best friend. Not even he could avoid the draft of this horrible war.

This reclusive behavior of Kiku's made him curious about the cultures of his diverse team, the ones he only ever read about online. Arthur gave him a quick rundown about his homeland before eating another candy and returning to the only book he(or anyone of the other soldiers) had brought, _'The Once and Future King'_.

_From the bells, bells, bells, bells,_

One man could not shut up about his culture. Frances was a Frenchman that Arthur could only put it as bluntly as a sex obsessed man. The man did not respect personal space and charmed everything in his path. Everything about the Frenchman just annoyed Arthur. Just when Arthur thought he had been stuck in a useless argument with the Frenchman, Francis actually said something smart. It took Arthur back a little, remembering to not underestimate those who had been in wars before.

Arthur only spoke a few words of French, but the Canadian spoke it pretty well. It was odd for him to watch the timid Matthew and the overbearing Frances talk. Alfred would always put more fingers on his gun and smile extra wide and Arthur, without looing up from his book, would tell him to ease up as his hand would tense up around the spine of the book.

Even in times of war, music was still ever so present. Somehow, Antonio, an excitable upbeat Spaniard, was able to bring a guitar and a beautiful voice. The town loved him for it, so did the Italian brothers. Antonio found Lovino's secret tomato hoarding adorable and would sing about tomatoes just for the sheer pleasure of Lovino's embarrassment.

Arthur, out of boredom and the knowing to always be prepared even in peacetime, kept his gun spick and span at all times. The usual brighter than the sun Spaniard was cleaning his gun as well, his mouth in a hard fine line. With a flicker of a light in the dark tent, the shadows over took those emerald green eyes, Arthur stood back. Those eyes held the most sinister, dark secrets and it outright scared Arthur to the core. Then, out of nowhere, the light was restored to the tent and he was there smiling and like. It was no wonder he got along with Francis and Gilbert.

_Bells, bells, bells -_

Ivan was the strangest of them all. The Russian towered over everyone, his big muscles from the rigorous training camp he chosen to endure. The townspeople, and the units, stayed away from him. When he talked, he sounded sweet with a big smile, but gave off blunt answers and had a disposition that could have only come from the underworld. It outright scared people. Not to mention the fact that several of the unit had seen the Russian talking to his gun like one would do to a lover.

When Arthur was stuck doing routine night checks with Ivan, was when the Englishman realized he would be stuck with the Russian. Ivan would finger the chains around his neck some times, the ones woven in to that scarf of his. Arthur asked him about it, not having anything else to discuss and not wanting to wait in the loud silence. The Russian then told him about how his sisters gave him the silver around his neck. The only time Arthur had received silver around his neck, his eldest brother was jokingly, but not really, trying to choke him.

At the end of the first week, reinforcements from China had come in. Each team got a soldier and Unit Two got Yao. Yao was not only older in years, thought didn't look it, but in the mind as well. He was very wise and gave advice to a lot of the younger ones. Arthur assumed by the number of badges on his jacket that he had seen a very many of a battle.

In Yao's spare time he cooked. Most soldiers were over the rations that were so dry that some would submerge their meals in water before eating the hard, dripping mess. Yao welcomed the people into trying his food, a small smile on his face.

Unit Two did not harmonize with one another, but it was alright. They were enjoying peacetime and you don't need to get along with a war unit during peacetime.

_From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells._

II

_Hear the mellow wedding-bells__  
Golden bells!__  
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!__  
Through the balmy air of night_

There was a wedding in the town the day the message came. The wedding was beautiful, the woman in pure red that cascaded to ground like a waterfall and the man in black, as dark as the night. The red was perfect for the day.

The party, after the odd ceremony from years and years of old that came from the voices of those who have died long, long time ago, was a joyous occasion. There was feasting, drinking, and dancing. The town invited the soldiers who were more than happy to join in the festivities.

_How they ring out their delight! -__  
From the molten-golden notes,__  
And all in tune,__  
What a liquid ditty floats_

__Arthur watched how many of his unit danced as he heard the beauty of the Spaniard's voice from behind the guitar. He smiled to himself, as Kiku, who was sitting next to him, was trying to politely turn a girl down for dancing. After a white lie by Arthur to Kiku about how a girl would be dishonored if turned down for a dance, the Englishman noticed and enjoyed the Japanese man's blush of embarrassment.

_To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats__  
On the moon!__  
Oh, from out the sounding cells,__  
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!_

__The only four from his unit that were not dancing were Ivan, Antonio, Yao and himself. Antonio was behind the cheeriness of the music, strumming his guitar like no tomorrow. Yao was not one to dance, but was trying to understand a group of men through hand gestures. Ivan was somewhere alone like he always was and Arthur preferred to never dace. It would be foolish to do so in peacetime, so he watched as the others enjoyed themselves.

_How it swells!__  
How it dwells__  
On the Future! - how it tells__  
Of the rapture that impels__  
To the swinging and the ringing_

The message that came went through three of four different decoders before the full intention of its contents were delivered. Apparently, the war would be upon them by nightfall.

_Of the bells, bells, bells -__  
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,__  
Bells, bells, bells -__  
_

Peacetime was over.

_To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!_

III

_Hear the loud alarum bells -__  
Brazen bells!_

__The unit was in place by the time the sun settled. A small shiver ran through Alfred and Arthur could see the trace amounts of fear in his eyes. It didn't look right on the youth's face.

_What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!__  
In the startled ear of night__  
_

The Englishman took out a 'cancer stick' as Ludwig called them. He put it in his mouth and started to grind it against his teeth.

_How they scream out their affright!__  
Too much horrified to speak,_

__"Are you going to light that?" Alfred asked him. Arthur shook his head. "Then why have it then?"

_They can only shriek, shriek,__  
Out of tune,_

__"Makes the dirt taste right." The Englishman said as the noise of grinding teeth filled his head.

_In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,_

__"Whatever man, just hand one over then." The American said as he took a cigarette and lighted it with a match in his pocket. He took a long drag. Arthur could see the nerves resting for a second before jittering once again.

_In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,__  
_Arthur and America sat on the ground inside the gigantic walls of the city. Kiku was not far away, just on the adjacent wall with Ivan, his body tensing up from the fear of battle or the fear of Ivan standing so close to him. With a flicker upwards, Arthur could see Matthew on the towers of higher ground with Antonio. The other tower held Francis and Yao, both not even looking concerned that they were waiting. Gilbert was near the gate a small smile on his lips, the happiest Arthur had seen him. Feliciano was in a room behind him, keeping up hospital beds with his brother. Ludwig was also on the high rise apprehension getting the best of him.

_Leaping higher, higher, higher,_

All Arthur was thankful for was that he was not Unit One…. they were in front of the gate.

_With a desperate desire,_

The sounds of drums came before the people. Only drums could be heard for a full hour before the noise of guns could be heard. Arthur looked at Matthew, who could see the number of soldiers, and closed his eyes when he saw him in shock. Francis mouthed to him that they would not last the hour.

_And a resolute endeavor_

Shots from both sides were shot and then a blast shot the shoddy gate wide open in seconds. The Englishman could see the remains of Unit One. Soldiers flooded into the area before almost anyone could react. Everyone started shooting then, Unit Three coming from behind Unit Two and charging head first. Daring little bastards, they didn't survive.

_Now - now to sit, or never,_

Arthur could see through the smoke and the people he was shooting that his Unit hadn't gone down yet. They may have not gotten along, but they all could fight, and that was what counted right then and there. He could see men from Units Four, Five, and Six piling in. None of them even made a scratch and the enemy obviously had them beat one to fifty. It was hopeless.

_By the side of the pale-faced moon._

As blood was shed, all the men on the high risers came down to help the ground units who were getting the worst of it. These men who were their enemies were vicious, choosing to bite the flesh of their victims instead of punching them dead.

_Oh, the bells, bells, bells!_

The leaders of the Units told them to pull back to the trucks in the back of town only twenty minutes into fighting. Unit Two heard them and started to run. To do that, they would need to all get to the high risers.

_What a tale their terror tells_

Most of Unit Two had made it up there except for Arthur, Alfred, Matthew, and Gilbert. The four of them were pretty close to each other as Gilbert went haywire and shot everything in his path. It worked and cleared a path for him and Arthur to get to the high rises. They made it.

_Of Despair!_

Arthur turned around to see the Canadian and American backed against a corner. They were so young. Arthur turned around before he could see the enemy sink their teeth into them.

_How they clang, and clash, and roar!_

_What a horror they outpour__  
On the bosom of the palpitating air!__  
_

The remaining ten members of Unit Two ran to the back, Unit Seven holding the enemy back for a few minutes. They grabbed the Italians before making it to the back of the city. The cars in the back had no keys and none of the leaders were anywhere to be seen.

_On the bosom of the palpitating air!__  
Yet the ear, it fully knows,__  
By the twanging__  
And the clanging,_

Gilbert, knowing a thing about cars from a time when he stole them, tried to hotwire them. They stood around as they started to see the trickling in of enemy soldiers coming towards them. Units Eight, Nine, and Ten had also failed. By this time, most of them were out of ammo, using it all before hand and using it carelessly. Unit Two gave up on the cars, but the Italians decided that it was their only chance.

_How the danger ebbs and flows;__  
Yet, the ear distinctly tells,_

_In the jangling__  
And the wrangling,_

The others left and Lovino entrusted a gun to Feliciano before getting to work on the car. He stared at the gun in silent horror and only looked up to see the enemies coming closer and closer to them. Lovino yelled at him to start shooting. Feliciano closed his eyes turned his head to the side and shot at the enemies, _people_!

_How the danger sinks and swells,__  
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells -__  
_Lovino stopped working on the car after hearing the gunshots, not believing his medic brother would kill anyone. But, there was Feliciano not looking at the enemies, but hitting them square in the chest. He was so preoccupied and shocked that he didn't notice the men advancing towards them and putting bags over the Italians' heads.

_Of the bells -__  
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,__  
Bells, bells, bells -_

The rest of Unit Two could hear them scream, running into the woods, staying close to each other, but scattering enough through the dense think wood of night.

_In the clamour and the clangour of the bells!_

IV

_Hear the tolling of the bells -__  
Iron bells!  
_

The woods were dark and went on forever. They Unit ran and ran, but could still hear their enemies. Arthur ran as fast as he could, taking out a candy and putting it in his mouth. He bit against it and kept concentrating on moving his legs and the pain of his teeth.

_What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!__  
_

The Unit ran parallel to the small river that was hidden deep into the woods. The only water source for hundreds of miles around, a savior of this land, and yet not for them. The enemies were faster, by far. They caught up quickly and Arthur could see them surrounding the Unit. Kiku was to his side, a little in front of him, but not in a few seconds.

_In the silence of the night,_

There was no scream or noise, just Kiku going down and the enemy removing his knife though Kiku's bloody heart. The killer laughed before kicking the body and laughing more as the bones beneath his boot cracked into the night.

_How we shiver with affright_

Arthur ran to the banks of the river, the ground hilly enough and him fast enough to trip up some of his enemies. Yao was behind him, expertly weaving in and out of trees and dodging every bullet and knife that came his way.

_For every sound that floats_

The enemies ambushed Arthur to the side, but Arthur jumped to catch a branch of tree and made the enemies hit Yao instead. They all went into the dark depths of the water as the soldiers shot at the spot that the group went into, not caring they hit fellow comrades. The bodies of red floated up and went down along the river.

After a few minutes, the river ended in an oxbow lake that sloped upwards into a hill and trapped the Unit. They knew they had to make their last stand.

They were overtaken in seconds.

_From the rust within their throats_

The Russian fought from the side of the river, knocking man after man down. It didn't stop the knife diving straight through the scarf and chains into his neck and slicing it open for blood to spew out like a fountain. The killer went down with him, the weight of the Russian crushing him.

_Is a groan._

Arthur ran up the hill, the farthest away from the enemies, but they were still attacking him, just not as violently and as many as before. Most of the enemies on the hill were trying to take down Francis. They seized him, limb by limb, so that he would not use his handy knife anymore. On a count in the language the Unit did not know, he was thrown down the hill and into the lance of a soldier.

_And the people - ah, the people -__  
They that dwell up in the steeple,__  
_

It was only Antonio, Gilbert, Ludwig, and England left. England, Gilbert, and Antonio were on the hill, knowing the advantage of a higher point. Ludwig was not as lucky, fighting and winning against the enemy soldiers. Blood poured from the wounds that Ludwig had received when shot, but he barely noticed them.

_All alone,__  
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,__  
In that muffled monotone,__  
_

A few of the enemy soldiers were tired of bullets and started to pick up the large rocks from the river back to throw, them being even more dangerous than bullets. They started to pelt Ludwig with them. The final blow came from a savage man who hit him in the head with a particular nasty rock.

_Feel a glory in so rolling__  
On the human heart a stone -__  
They are neither man nor woman -__  
_

The three survivors were surrounded, backs to one another. The enemies stopped shooting, choosing to capture them and take their weapons away. The three men struggled the best they could, but could not due to the number of men holding them down. A leader of theirs, the one with the red hat, came forth and told the men to bring the Spaniard.

_They are neither brute nor human -__  
They are Ghouls: -__  
And their king it is who tolls: -__  
_

Antonio fought against being pulled up from the ground and put on his knees and his head on a rock. The executioner rose the knife. Kicking and screaming, Antonio's head rolled off.

_And their king it is who tolls: -__  
And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls,__  
Rolls__  
_

It rolled, rolled, rolled

_A pæan from the bells!__  
And his merry bosom swells__  
With the pæan of the bells!__  
_

The leader nodded to Gilbert and the men brought him to the leader.

"You will tell us when the rest of you UN bastards are." The leader said to Gilbert in perfect English. Gilbert cursed him and elbowed one of the men in the face. "You will. Take him away." The men took him away.

_And he dances, and he yells;__  
Keeping time, time, time,__  
_

A minute of silence went by and all Arthur could hear was the crack, crack, crack of bones.

_In a sort of Runic rhyme,__  
To the pæan of the bells -__  
_

Of Gilbert screaming, screaming, screaming.

_Of the bells: -__  
Keeping time, time, time,__  
_

Arthur was pulled up, his teeth still grinding the candy in his mouth. The dirt tasting better by the second, but that was probably the blood, not the candy.

_To the throbbing of the bells -__  
Of the bells, bells, bells -__  
To the sobbing of the bells: -__  
Keeping time, time, time,_

The leader motioned to the ground as Arthur was brought forth and could see the cold heartless, heartless, heartless eye of the leader.

_As he knells, knells, knells,__  
_

He knelt down, but not on a rock, like Antonio. A gun was brought to his forehead.

_In a happy Runic rhyme,_

It buried itself into his forehead, turning and pulling the skin.

_To the rolling of the bells -_

Arthur looked at the executioner and his grey, grey eyes.

_Of the bells, bells, bells: -_

The coldness of the gun brought down the heat of his sweating brow.

_To the tolling of the bells -_

The Englishman smiling, smiling, smiling.

_Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,_

The candy grinding, grinding, grinding his teeth.

_Bells, bells, bells -_

The shot burst through the air.

_To the moaning and the groaning of the bells._

_Compliments? Comments? Concerns?_

_Put them in a Review!_

_I have no idea where this came from. I have been on hiatus due to college and this just popped out of my head during Calc 2. I do love Edgar Allen Poe, as twisted as that sounds. I read this poem with the happiest smile as I sang it in such a merry tune, I guess that was what I was trying to portray. I hope it turned out okay._

_*I made Italy a medic for the reason that many Nations, even if they are not in any way involved in the war, send medics to war torn areas. I know this happened during the Vietnam War with the Italians._

_*The Once and Future King is a pretty well known book about the stories of King Arthur. If you ever watched X-Men movies, it is the book that Magneto was reading in the second movie in his prison._

_Thank you for reading!_


End file.
